Fear
by Livs Torres
Summary: The Warden finally breaks down. Oneshot.


The night was late. I could feel the cold, hard ground beneath me, its packed dirt pressing into my back. It was nice in comparison to the warm air all around me in my tent; to the warm body of which I laid on. The rise of his chest was a soft movement against my cheek, and I looked up at him, taking in the serenity of his face as he slept; the subtle flutter of his long eyelashes while he dreamed. I loved seeing him like this – calm, with no worry of his troubles. That would come later, in the morning.

But as for me? I couldn't sleep. The night's wind held no pleasure for me; the crickets and the coo of the wild birds in the forest were soundless. Even the breaths of my companions around us did not comfort me, for I feared that it was all in vain. I wondered if it was, and shuddered at the thought.

I slithered out of Alistair's grasp, trying not to move him. His hand around my waist dropped to the ground, and he stirred, but did not wake. Alistair merely turned on his side, grumbling nonsense and stretching out his arms beside him – he looked like a little boy. I almost didn't want to leave the tent. I wanted to crawl back into his arms and sleep away the night as I should have been able to; to at least forget my duties for a little while like I _deserved _to. Like we all deserved to. But, I just couldn't do it, and so I crept out of the little safe haven wearing nothing but Alistair's tunic, the cloth lingering on my knees.

Leliana was the closest to me as I tip-toed around the campsite. Her crimson hair glowed in the firelight; the faint freckles on her cheeks also illuminated. She slept soundly too, though she clutched a dagger in one hand as she rested on the thick quilt a few meters away from my tent. I suppose that old habits never die hard. I wish she didn't have to feel so afraid of our enemies, coming to get us in the night. I wish her past would stay behind her as all of our pasts should, and that Marjorlaine would move on with her life and stop sending assassins after her. Maker, after all this time you'd think that the girl would find a little peace in herself. I shook my head sadly and kept going.

Sten, Zevran, and Shale were on the other side of my tent. Warriors – that they were, but they were so much more than that. Both were so loyal and good, though in Zevran's case he didn't like to show it, yet it was there, deep in his heart. I cared for them equally, despite their differences. Sten and Shale resisted my affections – they liked to fake disdain, but I knew that secretly, they cared for me as well. Zevran, on the other hand, was all too flamboyant with _his _affections. It's safe to say that he and Alistair had had their fair share of skirmishes. But, I knew that Zevran didn't mean any real trouble. I suspect that Alistair knew this as well, though he chose not to acknowledge this. They got along well most of the time, however, with their… "constructive criticisms" if you know what I mean. I pressed on.

Wynne lay next to Leliana. Ah, Wynne. I loved her as I would a grandmother, or even, a Keeper. I trusted her with my life – I trusted my life to all of my friends, but especially her. Besides with Alistair, I've never felt so loved by a shemlen before, and it felt nice. It gave me hope that shemlens and elves could actually get along. Wynne with her white hair and rosy cheeks… her not-so-fragile body. I swear, I'd go crazy without her. She was just so caring with the way she always looked so concerned for me, offering advice even when I didn't want it. She was perhaps the toughest woman I knew out of all of Fereldan, and I was lucky to have her by my side.

Morrigan and Oghren were next. You know, for some reason, they were actually sort of alike. Both alienated, both bitter and jaded, though Morrigan more so than Oghren. But Oghren… Oghren I still didn't know very well. Morrigan on the other hand… she was my sister, and I firmly believed that. For all the pain and suffering she's experienced in her life and upbringing, I do believe that she can do good, whether or not she believes it herself. It's her intuition; her drive for power. She thinks power will give her everything and that's the only thing that holds her back from being truly good. She hides her fears behind her arrogance because she's afraid of seeming weak. It's all Flemeth's doing. She could have been brought up better. _Should _have been brought up better. But that was why she had me. To help her. To guide her. I would give up my life to save her, and I'm confident she would do the same. It's just that neither one of us will admit to it. It makes us too vulnerable.

And finally, my mabari, Sir. What could I say about Sir? He was everything I wanted in a friend. He was one of the only reasons I was still alive. Sir is my most loyal and trusted companion throughout all of this and I wish I could repay him for what he's done for me. He's an old soul, Sir. Wise beyond his years. I was privileged to have his company not only for this quest, but during the course of my life as well. I shuffled over to him and stroked the fur along his neck, and he sleepily looked at me before fading off again.

As I looked around, I couldn't help but feel sad for my friends. Dangerously sad. Pain built up in my chest and it suddenly became hard to breathe, as if there were an anvil on my lungs. Why did this all have to happen to us? Why was this put on us? Why were _we _responsible for saving the world from this Blight? It wasn't fair! I was barely an adult! I never wanted this! I should be at home, with my parents. My… dead… parents…

I had to gasp for air to catch my breath – it felt as if I were going to die from air deprivation. I wrapped my arms around my stomach and pushed them in and out, as if to force the circulation to get-going around in there. It didn't really help, and so I bent over, putting my hands on my knees. I stayed like that for awhile.

"Lyna?"

Oh no. I heard Alistair's voice coming softly from our tent. Only, when I never responded, he called out my name again, running to my side. He knelt down so that he could see my face, I think, and I didn't have to look at him to know that his brown eyes were wide with fear.

"Lyna, what's wrong?" his voice sounded hoarse, almost.

"I… can't."

He put a hand on my shoulders to steady me. "You can't… what?"

That was when the tears came, spilling down my face like waterfalls. "I can't keep doing this!"

My exclamation must have been fairly loud, for both Leliana and Wynne stirred in their sleep, though Wynne was the only to take notice of the situation at hand. Her mouth dropped open when she saw Alistair and me, and she hurried to my side too, her fingers glowing white in anticipation as if she were going to heal me. What a sight we all must have been.

What a great leader I was proving out to be.

In between the gasping and the sobs I knew that they were saying things to me, but I couldn't hear them. Wynne placed her hands on my temples and I felt warm after that, but it did nothing to appease me. I kept on crying.

"I don't want to do this anymore!" I cried. I'm sure that that had woken up several if not all of the other party members in the whole entire campsite, though I didn't seem to care at that moment.

"Lyna, listen to me."

I kept quiet though I couldn't still my tears.

"It's normal to feel this way. Do you hear me? It's _alright _to feel like you can't do this anymore. No human…. No one should have to go what you're going through right now. But you are, and you have to be able to keep going. You have to keep fighting! If not for yourself, than for me. For Alistair. For Fereldan!"

Wynne's voice did calm me down a bit, and so I could stand up and look her in the face, but again… my tear ducts were just not cooperating tonight.

"No!" I shouted.

Wynne's eyebrows shot up.

"I can't keep doing this anymore, Wynne. It's too hard! How am I supposed to do this? _How _am I supposed to save Fereldan and keep all of you alive? I can't lose you! I can't lose any of you! I just can't!"

When I was done ranting, my face was suddenly in Alistair's hands and his mouth was at my ear. Under normal circumstances I would have shuddered at its intimacy but I was so upset I barely even noticed.

"Lyna. You won't lose me. Do you hear me? You will not _ever_ lose me. I will never leave you. We'll get through this. I'm not going anywhere… I promise."

I choked back a sob and covered my eyes with my hands so that he couldn't see me. Everyone else was standing around just watching the scene take place, and I was embarrassed at having shown such vulnerability to them. A good leader takes one for the team.

I suppose that I wasn't a good leader, then. But I've always known that.

Maybe they have too.

I don't know how long I stood like that crying, but when I finally uncovered my face, everyone had gone back to their business and Alistair was still next to me, his hands in my hair. I looked up at him and sighed, chomping down on my lower lip so that I wouldn't start up the waterworks again.

His forehead creased at my appearance, it seemed, and he removed one of his hands from my hair so that he could run it through his – a nervous habit. After that, he pulled me in tight against his body, his hands laced around the small of my back. He rested his chin on the top of my head, and I breathed in his scent, trying to disappear within his frame. It wasn't that hard, either. Being a small, lithe, little elf did have its advantages, after all.

"I'm… sorry," I mumbled into his collar bone.

He took a moment and pried me away from him so that he could look me in the eyes, and I saw that his jaw was clenched.

"Lyna, you don't have to apologize. I understand. We _all_ do."

I shivered in his grasp and creases appeared on his forehead again. "But, I shouldn't have reacted the way that I did. I'm just so tired and exhausted and…"

That was all that I could think of, because the next minute, my lips were suddenly doing something else.

When I had realized that Alistair kissed me, I also realized that he did it to shut me up.

"Hey…" I almost smiled at him.

He allowed one of his lazy grins to spread across his face as he eyed me speculatively, and then his visage went back to normal.

"Seriously, Lyna. Don't worry about anything tonight. Everyone just wants you to feel and be better. You're not the only one we're counting on. We're also counting on each other. You don't have to do this all alone. That's why we're here. That's why I'm here. That, and the fact that I'm in love with you and would rather face a thousand deaths than ever be apart from you."

Butterflies. Everywhere. In my stomach, throat, nose. But, I ignored them because we were trying to have a civilized conversation.

"I know, Alistair. I'm just… ugh. I don't even want to talk about it anymore." I released his hands and shook my hair out, raking the curls behind my shoulders.

"That's the beauty of it, Lyna. We don't have to think about it right now." He smiled again and led me towards the edge of the tent, where we watched the campfire burn until I fell asleep in his arms.

I would never leave him, as well.


End file.
